Breathe
by dls
Summary: Post The Gift. Spike came to LA after Buffy's death. Angel and Spike learn that eternity is a long time and suffocation shouldn't apply to those who don't breathe. Rated M to be safe.
1. Eternity is a Long Time

Lorne listened to the vampire on the stage as he sipped his drink and wished that he had gotten something stronger than a cocktail. He waved to the bartender and a bottle of whiskey was brought to his table immediately.

It wasn't the singing that made Lorne wince. To be honest, the singer was probably the best Caritas had ever had. His frown was caused by what he heard underneath the deep voice.

Pain.

Pain like nothing Lorne had ever experienced before, not with the other heartbroken customers who came in and sobbed out a love song. They, at least, still had their hearts.

The vampire didn't. He had given his heart and gotten nothing in return.

Lorne didn't know how to give advice to mend something that didn't exist.

_I love you, I hate you_  
_I can't get around you_

Lorne had a habit of portraying an image of the situation in his mind, a metaphor of some sort. It helped him to evaluate the emotions and gave him some ideas for his infamously puzzling answers.

He saw an image of a man in a glass tank with water pouring in. The lid of the tank was unlocked and within reach, but the man remained motionless. He made no move to save himself. His eyes were fixed on the door and not on the rising water level. He was staring at the door as if he was waiting for someone to burst through any moment and rescue him. Perhaps was why he wasn't raising his arms to break free. He held the hope that someone would come for him.

No one would come. The man knew this but couldn't help to hope and wait. Waiting for the person to come and rescue him. Waiting for the person who had his heart. Waiting for the person who would never come.

Waiting with so much hope that it would eventually kill him.

_I breathe you, I taste you_  
_I can't live without you_

"Well?" Spike sat down next to Lorne in the booth and nodded his thanks to the waiter for the blood in front of him. He drank half of the glass in one gulp. "Judging by the tears on your face, guess it's not good, huh?"

"Tears?" Lorne finally noticed the wetness on his face. He had been told that this might happen, when empathic demons encountered an emotion so strong, it would affect them as well. But he hadn't really expected it to happen to him, and had disregarded it as a myth. Guess it wasn't one after all.

"Here," Lorne filled the vampire's glass with whiskey. "You'll need this."

"Just tell me." Spike raised a hand to stop the demon from answering, "And no riddles. Can't deal with those right now."

"He's still in mourning." The words tasted like week-old coffee, bitter and stale, when they left his mouth. "He still loves her."

"I know." Half of the alcohol-laced blood was gone with the quiet sentence. "Gonna tell me something I don't know anytime soon?"

"You know that..."

"I'm a bloody convenience to him?" The glass was drained and dropped on the table none-too-gently. "Know that too. Knew that when I came to sodding LA to cheer him up."

Lorne could only sigh.

"Also know that I'm 'suffocating' him." He laughed mirthlessly. "But shouldn't this be about me? Don't tell me you can read him through me."

"I can't, I just read a bit too much the last time he sang here."

"Any chance it has changed then?"

"No."

"Any chance it will change?"

"Most likely not."

"Most likely is pretty much the same as never, right?" Spike winced when Lorne nodded.

No words were spoken as they finished the bottle together.

_I just can't take anymore_  
_This life of solitude_

"So, what should I do?" When the last drop of the amber liquid was gone, Spike spoke up.

"Leave him."

"Thought you don't give direct answers to problems."

"This is different, Spike. Don't you think a century and a half is enough damage? Leave. Him."

"No." He lit a cigarette while straightening up from his previously relaxed position. "At least, not yet."

"Why not?"

"I'm waiting for something." Spike stood up and stretched his legs.

"His love won't come."

"I bloody well know that." He started for the door.

"so what is it then?"

"The day when I stop hoping and save myself." Spike strolled for the exit.

"And if it never comes?" Lorne ran to catch up with the vampire.

"Eternity is a long time." With that, Spike left the bar and the door closed with a soft click.

_I guess that I'm out of the door_  
_And now I'm done with you_


	2. Suffocation

"You're suffocating me." Angel said with a cringe when Spike draped his body over him like a blanket.

"You don't breathe." Spike stiffened on top of him and rolled off without another word.

"Spi…" The name died on his lips when the blond leaped off the bed and started getting dressed.

"Be back later." With those muttered words, Spike stormed out and didn't return till early morning, merely a couple minutes before dawn.

Then everything changed.

The familiar bleached-blond head no longer rested on his chest when they slept and Angel felt hollow, as if he would actually float up without the weight holding him down. Spike had stopped heating up two cups of blood and bringing them to bed while making a crack about Angel being a fat lazy ass. Yet when he watched Spike sipping the blood, Angel felt no hunger. Emptiness seemed to fill his body, and Angel didn't feel like analyzing how nothing could satiate hunger.

The name-calling was gone, replaced with a soft-spoken "Angel". Unbelievably, Angel missed being called a "poof", "ponce" or some other variety of insults. His name, the name he had thought would make him a better person, only made him feel worse.

When they had sex, the passionate cries, moans and screams were muffled as Spike bit the pillow and sometimes his arm. Angel worked harder to entice those sounds from Spike and failed every time when the pillows tore and the bites were deep enough to see bones.

The morning kisses from Spike disappeared as Angel woke first. But that wasn't what bothered him the most. What bothered Angel was the look in Spike's eyes when the blond woke up, a surprised look that said, "You're still here". The blue eyes that used to make Angel weak in the knees still did, but for a different reason; now Angel felt like someone had taken out his kneecaps.

Angel wanted that surprised look to stop, wanted the insecurity to vanish, wanted whatever demons lurking in Spike's mind and heart to materialize into something he could kill.

When he learned from Lorne that Spike went to Caritas that night, Angel rushed over immediately. He hadn't set foot in the bar since Buffy's death. When he had sung for Lorne, all he could think about was that perhaps Buffy would return to him one day. Perhaps some higher power didn't want to lose such a powerful slayer. Perhaps if he waited long enough, she would come back. After all, he had a pretty secure guarantee to be around forever.

But eventually, he learned to let her go. And while it wasn't easy to let go of someone who had once given him a moment of perfect happiness, Spike's presence in his life made it bearable.

At first, Angel thought it was because the smell of Buffy lingered in Spike's hair and her taste imprinted on his skin. When he found himself drowning in Spike, he panicked. He wasn't supposed to have feelings for Spike. Angelus was the one who loved Spike, loved William, and he wasn't Angelus.

Passing off the moment of tenderness as a fluke, Angel became more distressed when the feelings intensified. He spent hours, days, debating if Angelus were free, or the possibility he didn't want to contemplate: him and Angelus were one. How could he deal with his guilt then?

So when Spike nuzzled his neck while using his shoulder as a pillow that night, Angel snapped and told Spike that he was suffocating him. After all, Angel reasoned, it had to be partially, if not all, the blond's fault. Spike caused this chaos in Angel's life, made him feel alive again only to experience the sensation of drowning. If Spike hadn't come to him, hadn't offered comfort, hadn't made Angel love him… Before Angel could process that thought, Spike had left. The room never felt emptier.

Now, as Spike rested a few feet away with his back to him, Angel couldn't stop but to wonder why.

Angel remembered the anger on Lorne's face as the green demon refused to supply more information. He had to wrap his hand around Lorne's neck and threatened mutilation to get the confusing reply, "He's waiting".

No one could, or would, tell him what was wrong with Spike, and Angel was too cowardly to ask the question himself. What was Spike waiting for? Did whatever it was have anything to do with the shock on Spike's face every morning when he found Angel was still next to him? Maybe it was time to actually fight for someone he loved instead of hiding in the corner and praying that things would work out miraculously.

Gently, he shook Spike's shoulder and whispered, "Why don't you wake up before me anymore?"

Spike groaned at the interruption to whatever dream he was having and mumbled, "Won't see you leave." before falling back asleep.

Angel froze. Was that what Spike was waiting for? No, it was more of an expectation, Spike prepared himself if – no, when, at least in Spike's mind – Angel left. Maybe he thought waking up to an empty bed was better than to witness Angel walking out the door.

Then what was Spike waiting for? It wasn't about Angel leaving; Spike had obviously thought that to be a certainty. So, what could it be? Spike was waiting…to leave?

As soon as the idea entered Angel's mind, all the pieces connected and missing blanks filled. The distance Spike placed between them, both physical and emotional, made perfect sense. Spike was going to wait for the day when he no longer loved Angel and walked out the door.

Which would never happen. But Spike apparently didn't know that.

Spike didn't know that Angelus and Angel had found a common ground to stand on and a common interest to protect. The soul tempered the demon's violent nature while the demon made the soul more aggressive and fight for what was important: Spike.

Now it was only a matter of letting Spike know and making him believe. Angel knew that it wouldn't be easy, but they had time. And if they were really cautious, they'd have eternity and eternity was a long time.

"I love you." Angel pulled Spike on top of him, draping the languid body over his.

"Thought you were feeling suffocated." A pair of wide sapphire eyes met his and Angel winced at the disbelief in them.

"I love you," he repeated and tightened his arms to secure Spike in place. Placing a gentle kiss on the younger vampire's lips, Angel whispered softly, "And I don't breathe."


End file.
